


Don't Kill The Messenger

by Lothiriel84



Series: Just Can't Get Enough [3]
Category: MarsCorp (Podcast)
Genre: Age Difference, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-27 12:30:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13880904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: I'm no center of the universeThinking don't kill the messengerBut I can't act and I just deserveThinking don't kill the messenger





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eruthiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eruthiel/gifts).



He rested his cheek on the man’s thigh, taking a moment to catch his breath. Shareholders, but he was starting to enjoy this a little much – he thought to himself, as the same hands that had been in his hair up to a moment before firmly pulled him back to his feet, his knees protesting ever so slightly during the process.

“All right, buddy, fun is over. Time to go back to business.”

“Yes, Sir,” he nodded meekly, wiped his mouth as he waited for Colin to pull up his trousers and fasten his belt. “I hope you got your – little problem sorted, for the time being, Sir.”

Colin actually laughed at that, smacked him on the arse as he ushered him towards the door. “You little minx. Your boss won’t hear nothing but praise coming from me; and besides, he still owes me big time, so you don’t need to worry about him.”

“I’m glad to hear that – Sir,” he grinned, desperately trying to play it cool as he was presented with a decidedly expensive-looking wristwatch, all shiny and brand new.

“Here you are, Davey. I trust you’re going to make it on time for our next appointment.”

“You can count on it, Sir,” he nodded, somewhat breathless, his eyes fixed on his new possession. He tried it on, marvelling at how light it felt around his wrist. “Thank you very much, Sir.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, you can call me Colin, lad?”

“One more time, as usual, Sir,” he pointed out, as cheekily as he knew how.

Colin laughed again, pushing him out of the opening door. “And what a nice young man you are,” he heard the man call after him, in that smooth tone that went straight to his groin.

He would have to deal with that later, once he’d finished his round. What a pity that none of the messages he still had to deliver was anywhere near as fun as Mr Denham’s.


	2. Chapter 2

Shareholders, but those pastries were so good – he mused around another mouthful, then poured himself a generous amount of coffee. He was still only halfway dressed, with his trousers hanging low around his hips, his discarded shirt draped carelessly over the back of the sofa.

Mr Denham wasn’t exactly in the habit of letting him stay the night, so he was determined to make the best of such a rare occurrence. He pottered around the quarters, safe in the knowledge that Colin liked to take his time when he showered.

A knock at the door startled him out of his daydream, and he paused, considering his options. Whoever the unexpected visitor was, they would probably leave if he stayed still and didn’t make any noise.

The knock was repeated, louder this time, and Colin’s voice made itself heard over the sound of running water. “Dave, could you be a darling and get the door for me?”

“Yes, Sir,” he sighed, grabbing his shirt and throwing it on. The door whooshed open to reveal a lanky kid in a lab coat at least two sizes too big for him, who eyed him in a mixture of shock and contempt.

“Who are you? Where’s Colin?”

“I’m his – assistant,” he lied with practised ease. “I can pass on your message, if you happen to have one.”

“No, you’re not,” the kid spluttered, indignantly. “I’m his assistant. Let me in, I need to talk to him.”

“Oh, hello David,” the man himself cut in smoothly, as he materialised at Dave’s elbow wearing nothing but a bath towel wrapped around his waist. The kid turned an improbable shade of red, looked about two seconds away from having a heart attack.

“Colin, ah – I thought you wanted to get an early start with our – project,” he stammered, as he blatantly failed at not openly ogling the half naked man who was now standing right in front of him. “Who’s this – this Orange? What’s he doing here in your quarters?”

Colin gave the kid one of his genial smiles, clearly aware of the effect it was having on him. “Oh, this is my friend Dave, he’s been giving me a hand with some stuff. Such a helpful young man, I can tell you.”

“Right,” Dave cleared his throat, resolutely ignoring the hostile look on the kid’s face. “Well, I have to go now.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, Davey,” Colin winked. “I’ll see you around.”

If looks could kill, then he would definitely be dead by now.


	3. Chapter 3

David. That was what Colin had called the kid, wasn’t it? It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together, and get the rest of the picture. After all, it wasn’t as if Colin hadn’t occasionally slipped and called him David, during one of their encounters; besides, the kid was obviously an intern, and therefore much too young for a pervert like Mr Denham.

He considered the option of exploiting this knowledge to his own advantage; he could try and profit from Colin’s little secret, but the question was, was it too dangerous a game to play? He was suddenly reminded of the one time he had dared to contradict his sugar daddy, nearly ended up with a broken wrist as that charming lunatic felt the need to re-establish which one of them was in charge. That one glimpse at Colin’s dark side had been enough for him to realise how foolish it would be to get on his wrong side, even more so if the man was as infatuated with his pretty young intern as all the signs seemed to point to.

He got out of the lift, headed straight towards the bar; he needed a drink, and for once in his life he could actually afford one of those posh cocktails that Colin seemed to like so much. As he turned around the corner he felt someone tugging at his uniform, and he found himself staring at those wild green eyes that had been glaring at him not twelve hours prior.

“Get your hands off me, kiddo,” he shrugged him away, simultaneously trying to push past him.

“Whatever’s going on between you and Colin – it needs to stop,” the kid warned him in what he assumed was meant to be an intimidating tone. “Do you hear me, you orange scum?”

“Get lost, kid,” he replied curtly, barely resisting the urge to shove him out of his way. Damn those True Blues and their haughty manners; and to hell with the entire colour system, for all that matter.

“He could have anyone he wanted. Why you? What do you have that I don’t have?” David continued, more and more frantically, clawing at the front of his jacket. “He must know I’d to anything for him – anything.”

“Oh, please. You’re just a snotty daddy’s boy, too precious a flower for him to stick his dick into,” he laughed humourlessly, anger finally stirring in his gut. “You want to know what we Oranges have that you blue-blooded bastards don’t? We’re expendable. No one cares if we get fucked by a man ten years our senior. And you know what? He’s bloody great at it.”

All the colour left David’s cheeks, his eyes widening in some sort of morbid fascination. “Tell me about it. Please. I have to know.”

“No way. He’d wring my neck with his own hands if I did.”

“Show me, then,” David pleaded, his fingers insistently pulling at the lapels of his jacket. “Let me feel it.”

His lips were on Dave’s mouth before he could even form a reply, and Shareholders, but the kid wasn’t as inexperienced as he would have thought at first glance. His old man was right; all Blues were a bunch of nut jobs, you never knew where you stood with one of them.

“Everything comes at a price,” he pointed out, even as the kid started feeling him up through the fabric of his trousers. “I don’t do anything for free.”

“Anything you want,” David panted against his neck, not even bothering to hide the desperation in his voice.


	4. Chapter 4

Never again, he thought as he watched the kid scramble for his clothes, then all but flee the room Dave shared with two other Oranges. It didn’t matter that he’d just been promised free access to the Mine for Mr Kingsley’s upcoming birthday party; David had been crying half the time, and honestly, he wasn’t sure how he felt about exchanging sexual favours with a sixteen-year-old pining for his boss. Those crazy Blues and their morbid obsessions, he shook his head, then searched his nightstand for a bottle of bootleg liquor.

It wasn’t until a week later that he heard back from Colin, and he knew he was in trouble the moment he set foot in his office.

“Now there, Davey,” the man offered him one of his dangerous smiles, steepling his fingers under his chin. “I’m all for you having a little fun on the side, but you could at least have had the courtesy to invite me along for the ride.”

He snorted, didn’t even try to guess how Colin had managed to find out about the incident with his precious intern. “If you don’t want other people to fuck with your protégé, Sir, you should do it yourself. He’s dying to, you know.”

“Is he now,” Colin shrugged, feigning disinterest by rearranging the papers on his desk.

“It’s kind of pathetic, really. Not that it’s any of my business – Sir.”

“I see. You know, Davey, I don’t think I’ll be requiring your services anymore, if you get what I mean.”

“I think I do, Sir. Have a nice day.”

He was already halfway through the door when Colin called after him.

“Oh, and Dave? Do you think you could give David a message for me?”


End file.
